Taj Close To Home
by Ina Bubb
Summary: This is a snippet from the other side of the Hadley family - Minnerva's. Her son Taj grows curious of his Aunt and her "bastard" daughter...
1. Chapter 1

My mothers side of the family had always been…interesting.

Dad's side where a wealthy law firm and had always stayed the right side of Middle Class.

I've only ever met Mum's dad, Kamal Hadley once. We got along well, and he told me stories of when Mum was really young. I listened intently, waiting for the punchline.

Mum said Kamal had never been there, just like her Mum.

Being a politicians grandson meant _nothing_ at my school. Being rich however, got me somewhere…

Mum says Aunt Persephone is beautiful, like my cousin, Rose. Dad usually scoffs whenever she mentions her side of the family. Its probably because he doesn't like the idea of _anyone_ in his family having _anything_ to do with the L.M, especially not Callum "bastard" McGregor.

I know a hell of a lot about him. I've searched archives and asked around. Dad's not wrong. Callum was a lot of things; a terrorist, a murderer, a complete asshole. A rapist.

Rose was an accident. No, worse than that. The result of a horrific night with a blanker.

Dad says Persephone is a stupid bitch for not having Rose aborted. But only when Mum isn't around.

I wish I could meet Rose. God, I bet she's older now. Well, no shit…I just can't imagine her.

Dad made Mum get rid of all the pictures of her and my aunt, to rid the house of "bad blood". Mum was mad as hell about it, but said nothing. You don't argue with my Dad.

Thinking about my mums side of the family is how I found myself going into Dad's study.

He was out at a business meeting until 3pm, so I had plenty of time to look for anything interesting.

The study reflects Dad completely. Wooden panelling, leather armchairs, tall windows looking out onto our large garden.

In the far corner is a tall, wooden filing cabinet.

The bottom drawer is the important one. Whenever something bad happens, Dad talks about it being "of bottom drawer importance". Pulling on the handle, I find that the drawer is locked. Of course it is. Dad's not a fool.

The cabinet is ancient though, and with the right amount of strength and determination, it can be opened. It works with the other drawers. I know that because I had to look up one of Dad's cases. Why the hell was his company representing a blanker? It was a mistake of course. Merely a typo. His company was representing a _banker_. Dad sacked his receptionist for that.

The drawer opened with a satisfying clunk.

The only folder in the drawer was a dirty cream colour, with Dad's scrawly writing at the top.

_Liberation Militia – Assasination._

What the hell?


	2. Chapter 2

I tried to confront Dad.

Maybe I was just being…I don't know, paranoid.

Dad wasn't part of the L.M…that was Callum McGregor…Persephone…Jude…Callie Rose.

Not _us_.

Dad got home late that night. I had slammed the door shut. I didn't read the file. I _couldn't_. The truth would hurt. But I already knew what I would find.

The L.M had rubbed off Mum's family onto Dad. There would be no point in denying it.

Our cushy upper class _Cross_ lifestyle was funded by betraying our race to blankers.

Fuck dad. Fuck mum's family. Fuck Mum. She probably already knew.

How long had I been the only one to not know?

I'm old enough to be _part_ of it. So when is the age barrier for being a _part_ of the family?

Stuff this.

The following morning I find myself at the breakfast table, opposite my father.

Ha.

Callie goddamn Rose may think its hard for her, _not_ finding out about her bastard father until she got to what…13?

At least she doesn't have to live _looking_ at his face.

"Dad…I…er…" I tried to say. He looked at me with frosted eyes and said, "Yes?"

No "Yes, _son_," just….Yes.

"Well…yesterday…" I just couldn't say it. How would he react?

"Is this important? I've got a busy day ahead," Dad said.

The silence echoed throughout the room. I knew so much. I couldn't just not tell him. I had to say something! How dare he bring me up being a happy Cross, when the _entire_ time he was _working _for them! Not _with _them. FOR THEM. Words, coming up my throat like puke, thick and fast – I just couldn't stop it-

"Yeah, working for _blankers_," I said.

Dads face dropped a metre.

He stood up, placing his hands menacingly on the table, one fisted, the other spread out.

He pushed his half empty bowl of weetabix to the side, leaning over the table.

"You went into my office, didn't you," he said. It was not a question, "DID'NT YOU! ANSWER ME YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARD!"

So quickly, he pounced. Over the table – on top of me.

His knee was on my chest, one hand over my throat, the other pounding my neck.

For minites I didn't respond. I was…so peaceful.

Then an entirely new rage came over me.

"YOU LYING ASSHOLE!" I screamed, biting his hand so hard, I could taste salty red blood…but I wasn't sure whether it was mine or his.

He gasped in pain, but continued punching me.

My father had always been a violent man, I knew that. Many times I had seen him kick or slap my mother for disobeying him.

At that moment, Mum came rushing in, screaming.

"Get _off_ my son!" She screamed at Dad.

Dad continued.

"Leave me be, you dirty _whore_!" Dad yelled back at her.

What happened next was so fast.

In my mind it happened silently. The L.M had never actually been mentioned…which meant Dad knew _exactly_ what I meant when I said he worked for blankers.

I saw the crashing of a bowl…the slow falling of a soggy, half eaten weetabix…then blood…_so much blood._

Dad fell to one side and I felt my mothers hand around mine.

She pulled me up, and put her arm around my shoulders.

"Taj," she said, stroking my bleeding face, with love only a mother could, "We're going away for a while."

And just like that, we left my Dad. No bags, no nothing.

Just cautious glances as we left him bleeding on the kitchen floor.


End file.
